The Quiet One

3 years and 2 days after the birth of my first child, we eagerly awaited the birth of our second child. This time around I wasn't leaving anything to happenstance, so I asked the doctor to induce labor on my due date. Things were so different when I was expecting my second child. I had to make arrangements for my Mom to be here to help with my daughter, and I felt like everything had to fit into everyone else's schedule... So being induced seem the most logical thing (Ha!). While the nurse got me settled in, my husband goes down to the gift shop to get some magazines and maybe something to eat. When he comes back, the drip is going, I'm hooked up to all of the monitors and everything looks like a go for the launch sequence to begin. Since the birth of my daughter went so smoothly and quick, I'm expecting the same will be true for this birth as well..... After all, I'm a pro now. My husband was way more relaxed this time around as well. In fact he may have been just a tad bit cocky about the whole thing since he survived the last birth with no physical injuries. He sat over in the chair next to my bed flipping through his magazines when the contractions began. When a contraction would come along, he'd watch the monitor, then casually go back to his reading. It didn't take long before the contractions started to hurt. It all started coming back to me about this point..... Somehow over the last three years I had forgotten that labor feels like someone has a vice grip around your middle and they are trying to squeeze you till your head pops off. I'm starting to get, well.. to get a little pissed off at this point. Hubby's over there reading his magazine like a king on his throne while I'm having the ever loving guts squeezed out of me!!! He is being way to calm about this and I'm just about ready to tell him just where he can put those friggin magazines when the nurse runs (and I do mean run)into my room. Her eyes are wide as she grabs the oxygen mask and slaps it on my face and tells me to breath deep. She throws the head of the bed all the way down and jacks the foot of the bed all the way up and runs out of the room only to run back into the room bringing more people with her. She seems a little frantic which is kind of freaking me out and she tells my husband the baby is in distress and they are going to do an emergency c-section. The anesthesiologist comes and with great urgency grills my husband about how many ice chips I had so far... hmmm, guess someone should have been paying closer attention. In what seems like a matter of seconds we went from calm and collected to praying desperately for our baby's life. Before I knew it I was in the surgery room as the lights began to fade and all I could think about was if my baby would make it....   I just have one question.... Why the heck do nurses scream at you when you are waking up from surgery. There you are in this nice dark place feeling so cozy and carefree and they walk over to your bed and is it my imagination, or do they say in the loudest possible voice.... MRS. PATTERSON!!!!! YOU NEED TO WAKE UP!!!!! YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL BABY BOY!!!! MRS. PATTERSON, MRS. PATTERSON!!! (When I get out of this fog I'm going to give that nurse a wake-up call!) Then I hear the sweet voice of my husband whisper... Jac, we have a boy. Wake up Jac, we have a boy. My eyes didn't seem to want to cooperate with me, neither did my voice, but I just had to know.... I had to know now..... "Is the baby ok? Is he going to be ok?" I vaguely remember being able to see my husband through hazy eyes as he held my son over for me to see for myself that he was Perfect.Perfect little fingers, perfect little toes and a perfect button nose. The next day I'm laying in the hospital bed watching my perfect little boy sleep soundly in the bassinet next to my bed. My husband comes in and asked "How is he doing?" I look up at him with a dreamy unknowing in my eyes and say something that he has never let me forget.... "He's going to be our quiet one."